Mystified
by Lyfed
Summary: Winterhold's new scholar finds Skyrim so much different from her homeland, but she hasn't seen much of it yet. A simple task turns into the adventure she could have never expected.
1. Prologue

**SUMMARY – Winterhold's new scholar finds Skyrim so much different from her homeland, but she hasn't seen much of it yet. A simple task turns into the adventure she could have never expected. **

**NOTE – I've developed the whole plot now and I had to edit previous chaptersPlot will be more around Winterhold questline than I first considered. Since there aren't many chapters yet, I have edited previous chapters and changed them slightly! I think it will work out better that way. **

PROLOGUE

The carriage trundled slowly along the snow-cowered path, its several passengers vestured in heavy cloaks, all hooded. The morning sun shone brightly above the forest in the cloudless sky, reflecting from the snow. The day came cold and particularly bright. Three people within the carrier were all tired and frozen from the long way on the road.

"Hmh, not usual weather for here," the carrier mumbled to himself more than to his passengers. No one even gave attention to his words.

A young woman with lucid-blue cloak, a hood nearly covering her eyes, observed the forest, her look blank from tiredness. They were on the road for a long time already – the carriage trudged with the speed of a _mammoth. A walking mammoth, _she corrected.

She haven't seen this land and the mountains got her fascination. There wasn't anything alike in Cirodiil.

Levoren enjoyed watching the changing landscape. Though it was the end of the winter and snow still capped nearly whole province, the land varied slightly. Cold and mountainous Winterhold was replaced by the plainer Eastmarch, then the mountains in Rift Hold appeared again. She studied the maps in Winterhold to get a better idea of the new land.

Today she saw some rabbits near the road, a few foxes in the woods and – most recently – _two_ _corpses _in a ditch. She commented on them stunned, but did not get much response, only a brief „_hmh_" from the carrier. Her fellow-travelers never were too talkative; they haven't spoken a single word since they got in the carriage. But still, was it such daily scenery here?

"Almost there," the carrier enounced, urging on the horse. _For the first time probably you are making the animal move faster_, Levoren sighed in relief. The first thing she would do in the city - go for a warm drink. She hoped she won't run into any misunderstanding about _herbal tea_ here... She learned that locals Nords drank beverages with degrees _only_. In Windhelm they brought her spiced berry mead when she asked for the simplest tea. _That was why the counterman creased his brows that way when I ordered a drink_, she thought smirking. She considered going to the alchemy shop directly this time; she was instantly offered warming tea, when she dropped in to buy some local ingredients in Windhelm.

The carriage rolled through the watchtowers up the small hill, and the walls surrounding Riften finally came into the view. Everyone in the carriage stirred, anxious to leave the carriage at last. It to the stables near the gate and cabman drew the reins, hailing "_whoa_" and the horse slowed down, shaking its head, until it stopped.

Two of her travel companions, most likely elves, left the cart immediately and wandered away without a word. Levoren stepped down the last one and looked back at the man.

"Farewell!" she waved at the carrier, her breath turned steam as she spoke.

"Eh heh, good-bye girl! Don't get too frozen here," the cabman laughed at her, covering herself firmly with her cloak. She nodded and walked to the city gates. _Riften, finally._


	2. 1: Unpleasant News

**A/N: Thank you for the review! Well, true, I didn't give out too much Levoren's description yet, but I will in this chapter (: This chapter involves mostly her, but Marcurio will show up already, don't worry. (NOTE – Since I've developed the whole plot now, I thought it would work better if some details changed. It will be more around Winterhold questline. Since I haven't written much yet, I've edited a few things. I just think it will be better that way!)**

CHAPTER 1: Unpleasant News

"Halt, woman," the guard commanded, when Levoren approached Riften's gates.

"What's the matter?" She inquired lifting the hood off her green eyes.

"Before I let you in the Riften, you need to pay the visitor's tax," guard stated blankly.

She frowned. "A tax for what?"

"For the privilege of entering the city. What does is matter?"

"I hear of such a _tax _for the first time… Since when do you have to payto simply enter a city?"

"Shh woman…" The man hissed. "All right, I will let you in, just be quiet… Let me unlock the gate for you…" He took the key reluctantly and unlocked the gates.

The guard probably tried this trick with all new travelers, hoping for the naïve ones, she thought walking through the gates. The first city with corrupt guards she'd seen. _Minus one point to Riften._

The demand of warmth still reminded of itself, and she did as she promised herself earlier – to head straight into the inn to get some warmth and _hopefully_ tea or even warm juice. _Thought this city looks Nordily-Nordish_, she noted sorely, _shouldn't expect anything milder than mead here. _And the alcohol normally messed with her mind. She chose to _avoid_ it.

She walked through the bridge and noted a sign, yet she hadn't seen what was on it. Yet the building reminded the tavern, they usually stood in the most notable places. Entering, she felt warmth shroud her. Candles illuminated the room cozily, throwing shadows at the wooden walls. Chatter rang through the air and people drank from the mugs, a slightly honeyed smell hovered around. But something gave this place a certain coziness. She'd seen quite many inns during her travel. _Maybe that's because of the weather_ outside, she thought smirking and went to the bar.

The Argonian barmaid watched her approach and greeted.

"Good day, traveler," Argonian nodded. "Anything you want?"

"I would like some drink," Levoren said, sitting by the bar. "Tea, if you can."

"Anything, if you have money." Woman laughed and went to get the teapot off fire. Levoren put a coin on the table. She hesitated, but took the hood off her head, light sand color hair spread loosely around her shoulders and she had to remove some bangs off her eyes.

"Travelled from far, Elf?" The Argonian asked, glancing at her once again before guessing her race. She poured steaming liquid into the cup and passed it to her.

She nodded "Yes. But I am not actually an elf. My mother is a Breton." She warmed her hands with the pleasant warmth the tea emitted, then made a little sip. "It's quite chilly outside today."

"Well, it's not usually so cold here in Riften," the barmaid said, putting a teapot back on the fire. "This winter is colder than it usually is. We all hope it won't be like this for too long… But on the other hand, it's good for business!" The Argonian laughed. "The inn is full like never."

Levoren glanced around. She noted there were some Nords, some Argonians, Redguards, Imperials and a few Bosmers. Nowadays many races were absent in the cities, with this _civil_ _war_ issue going on… She already found out that Nords distrusted others. Sometimes not hiding it too much.

"If it will be like this outside for a longer time, we might run out of mead reserves!" The woman joked, interrupting her from her thoughts.

"Umh."

Levoren sipped her tea slowly, looking at the dancing fire in the candlestick. Enjoying the moment of warmth, before she stood and stood and left the inn. She was said to be in haste.

_Uh, the cold_. She shuddered from the icy air when she left the inn. _Not so cold usually, eh?_ It began to snow outside, figurine snowflakes swirled around the buildings, wind blew them into her face. Levored lowered her hood, shivering and sincerely wished to get back, get some more tea, some sleep, wake up freshly the next morning… She chased the thoughts away. She knew she couldn't lose all day, even though it was still early, she had to settle affairs fast and return with the piece as soon as possible. _First task, then rest._ She thought about asking the locals about the shop. She would hardly see the shop signs in the snowstorm anyway.

"Could you help me, please?" She approached a pair of people, a man and a woman. "I need to get to the Alchemy shop**, **could you tell me the way?**"**

The Nord woman eyed her for a moment. "It is just down. Go down the stairs ant then straight**. ** But you won't find anyone there," she added.

"Why, may I ask?"

"You must be not from around here." Man, who was with the Nord, spoke. "The alchemist was found dead near a road recently. Poor Hafjorg's gone to Whiterun and doesn't know it yet… "

Something stroke Levoren from inside and she felt heat start to rise in her. She did not know who _Hafjorg_ was, but that was not her concern now.

"You should ask the guards," the woman suggested. "They will know more. If they will tell you."

Levoren nodded weakly. "Thank you…" She did not _believe it, _she could not! How did this happen? Why would someone kill an old man? Why did he even leave the city in such a harsh weather? She was told the piece he had to give her was a very ancient artifact. The only reason Tolfdir sent her to retrieve it was because he _trusted_ her, even if she was new. The task was not even that difficult or too risky, that a healer could not cope with it… Tolfdir just said she shouldn't talk too much and return as soon as she had it with her.

She went where the woman directed, carefully stepping on the snowy. A guard stood by the end of the dock and she approached him.

"What is it, citizen?" He inquired in that usual guard tone, when noticed her.

"I came to… meet with the alchemist, Elgrim, but I heard rumors that –"

"The man is dead. Was found by the patrol on a road. Likely killed by the bandits," the guard stated in blankest tone she'd ever heard.

"When?"

"Just two days ago. Why does it matter?" The guard spoke so carelessly that she wondered if those two cadavers she saw on her way weren't other unfortunate citizens of Riften. With their watch trying so hard for the sake of the people, it was very believable…

"I was send from the College of Winterhold to meet him. He had to pass me an important item."

"A mage, then," then guard noted, mocking tones in his voice.

"I need to search his store for the item." She looked at the sign, assuring that it was the right one.

"But it's not so easy…" The man trailed finger on the door.

"I… have a letter from Winterhold. I am not some thief…" She drew the sealed letter from her bag on the belt and held to the guard.

"Letters are easy to forge. I cannot let you in so simply, _mage_..."

Levoren folded arms on her chest, _now_ irritated. Was every guard in this city a moron? She considering going to the Jarl himself. Yet she remembered – she was told not to give out too much details about the artifact, and the Jarl for sure would ask more … She was not certain of how he viewed the College, as she already knew that many claimed distrust to it.

"But something could help open this door…" The guard said suggestively.

She sighed in disbelief. People there sought benefit everywhere they could! Are there no longer good people anywhere? Or there they are, lying by the roadsides? '_The world is slowly falling into the abyss…' _Where did she hear these words? She wasn't certain _who_ said them, but she agreed now. Must have been a _wiseacre_. The healer scowled at the guard. _Minus two points._

"Isn't it a guard's responsibility to assure safety for the people in the city and nearby? I heard that body was found close to the city, the man was a reputable alchemist and perhaps had this significant item with him!" She wished to make this moron guard feel his entire fault in this event, make him ashamed that he dared to even speak about self's profit now, when because of _his_ fault someone died again.

"I wasn't even on the watch then," he stated, seemingly unimpressed by her speech much.

What she could do now?

Write a letter to Tolfdir and inform that she failed on her first independent task? He would be disappointed if she didn't make at least some effort herself… And she did not want to disappoint him.

Or she could go to the jarl, show him the letter from the College and hope for his good will… Very easily he could refuse her and tell his wizard to look for the artifact himself. And then announce that, of course, nothing was found.

All that effort to simply _enter_ an alchemist's shop… But if the thing was stolen on the road, no one would even find a trace of it later.

"How much do you want?" Levoren forced out.

"Oh, that wouldn't cost you almost anything… Only enjoyable for both of us. You will be pleased, I assure…"

She looked at the man sternly, when she realized. _The man asked for…_

She exhaled in disbelief and nearly shuddered. She breather deeply and pursed her lips.

"How much gold would it cost me to get in," she asked again, looking at the guard sternly. She hoped he could feel her gaze under that mask.

"Oh well. I only tried to make everything pleasant… But if you prefer the plain way," he sounded displeased, but stated finally "I guess nine hundred gold would do something."

_Nine hundred! _The healer sighed out in disbelief. That was almost a half of the money she had with herself. But then, had she other option?

"I will give you the money when you open the door."

"How do I know you have them?"

She reached for the coin purse and the gold there jingled.

Guard gave out a little laugh and walked to the door, removing a keychain off his belt. He found a needed key and opened the door.

"The gold, woman."

She passed him a purse, the needed amount of Septims in it. She counted. Not a Septim too much. The guard took it quickly.

"I will count," he snickered, weighting the purse.

_Oh, you can count actually?_

She entered a shop, looking around and conjured a magic detection spell in her hand. Enchanted items usually emitted certain energy which she hoped to detect here. She felt the man still standing near the door.

"I've paid you already, I would like to examine everything closely now." She let the spell to fade and looked at the guard.

"The watch must always be present in such settings, _so_ suitable for lootings." She could hear a teasing tone in his voice.

"I showed you the letter! Do I look like a thief to you? You just wanted to open a door under certain arrangements… I wonder if your Jarl would like that…"

"Carefully, woman," the guard warned. She could notice warning notes in his tone, yet she couldn't see his face behind the mask-like helmet. She decided not to pay him attention anymore and began to search the alchemist's house anyway.

She conjured a spell again and tried to sense the magic trace. She sensed some enchantment trails, but she found out that all of them belonged to rings and amulets. Another trail came from the chest. _Likely_ place for something valuable, but unoriginal, she noted. _Locked_. She glanced at the guard and touched the lock carefully, casting a weak frost spell on it. She _hoped_ it would work, she had never opened locks before… The lock slightly glowed from the inside and crackled a little. Levoren raised a lid carefully, but saw just another enchanted amulet. She sighted.She needed a _plate. _A disk, more precisely, _plate sized _disk with ancient Dwemercarvings and teal stones around it. Tolfdir said it's made by Dwarves. She presumed that something so ancient must emit considerable amount of energy. Yet here she found no trace of it.

She could _feel_ the guards gaze on herself; she _always_ felt when she was being observed. The healer shut the chest and headed upstairs. Perhaps the alchemist hid the disk in his private apartments, which was more probable. Somewhere safe, but where…

She searched for it with magic, she checked everywhere where the spell pointed, yet found only _more_ enchanted rings. She searched the traditional way then, literally _everywhere_. She even checked the barrels, thought not a hint of magic came from them… She presumed that perhaps disk's magic trace was concealed purposely. Or maybe it wasn't actually an artifact, she didn't know if Tolfdir himself had ever seen it… Even the guard started to take interest into what she was searching for, but she refused to tell, of course.

_Nothing_.

It must have been stolen then, she thought in despair. _At least the blizzard stopped_, she noted glumly, standing in the street. For first time she was trusted with a task that did not involve healing, and she failed… But then it wasn't her fault, was it? _But she could have arrived earlier if she wouldn't have lingered in Windhelm so much... _Maybe then she would have arrived when the alchemist still hadn't left. She remembered the guard told Elgrim's body was found two days ago… She wouldn't have made it to Riften by then, anyhow. Yet she could still try to _find_ the disk…

Someone in the inn mentioned bandit camp… being nearby. But _where_? It wasn't a good idea to rush into the wilderness in weather like this and alone. And she had no idea where the camp could be. She even doubted it would be a _camp, _with boiling water freezing outside now... Yet if there was still a possibility that the bandits have not left and _had_ the piece… She had to try all the possibilities. She could ask someone who knew the region to accompany her, couldn't she? Of course for _money_. She already learned that money solved merely any problem in this city. She should be glad that she still had some.

The healer headed up the stairs, where she's seen another shop sigh and decided to ask if there was a courier in the city. She still would have to inform Tolfdir of this if she wouldn't find the artifact. Buying some paper and ink would be a good idea to begin with.

"Welcome, welcome!" A man behind the counter greeted as she entered.

She nodded "Hello… Perhaps you know where I could send a letter?"

"Well… A courier arrives to the stables few times in a week… I hand him some letters myself! He should come on Turdas now... Tomorrow," he nodded, checking the day.

"Do you sell some paper? I need to buy some."

"Of course, of course… Only a Septim for the page. Do you need the ink? "

She nodded. "Yes. I have a quill," she assured, when the man pointed at one. "And… Maybe you happen to know any mercenaries here?" she asked, putting the items in her bag.

Shopkeepers face closed in thought for a moment. "There is a mage, actually!" He remembered. "Marcurio I think. He'd been here today for some potions. Mentioned currently working as journeyman."

Levoren blinked. "And where can I find him?"

"Must be in the Bee and Barb, just nearby," he said. "Should be with a yellow robe."

She thanked and walked straight into the inn.

I I I

Levoren noticed a yellow robe man right as she entered the inn, he was reading a book. She stopped in front of him and asked.

"Are you Marcurio?"

"Yes?" He put a book he was aside and raised his eyes at her.

"Do you know Riften's surroundings?"

"Of course."

"Then I want to hire you." She reached for the coin purse.

Mage arched a smile.

"_Deal, _then."

**A/N Hope you liked :) **


	3. 2: Findings

**NOTE – I've developed the whole plot now and I had to edit previous chapters**

**Plot will be more around Winterhold questline than I first considered. Since there aren't many chapters yet, I have edited previous chapters and changed them slightly! I think it will work out better that way. **

* * *

**Chapter 2: Findings**

"You're going into a debt," Keerava said, standing hands-crossed before him. "Again, _mage_."

His mead became bitter and he swallowed the gulp with effort.

_Again_. His savings were running to the end, and _faster_ that he thought… Unpleasant thoughts haunted Marcurio more often than he would wish. No mead to get warm. No bed… even if stiff, _still_ a bed. And oh, _the_ _debts_. About these he kept _forgetting_ to remind himself.

"You'll have to pay by the end of the week or you'll be out of here." Argonian's look was sullen at him.

His eyebrows went up. "Don't you have any trust in me, Keerava?" Yet _she_ was the hostess here; he still dwelled only on her _good will_. "I'll pay you, you know that." He'd never stayed in Riften for longer before, he'd always found jobs in Solitude or even Windhelm, _anywhere_, because he was very skilled indeed… He wasa _mage_ after all, he wouldn't take just _any_ job available. And in Riften… Life in this city boiled elsewhere.

"You'd better, mage," Keerava's eyes narrowed. "I will not wait for any longer. A week, mage, not longer."

Marcurio sighted and placed his arm on his enchanted amulet. And he _liked_ his amulet. It was his last.

I I I

Divines smiled on him, after all. Mage hid a coin purse in his bag.

"So what do you need me for?" He asked the cloaked woman. He could sense the traces of magic around her.

She turned her head sideways and looked into the room, yet hesitated to speak. He couldn't see her face under a hood, but some locks of light hair fell on her shoulders. She seemed pale even in the warm light of candles, but her skin had golden shade. _Probably an elf_, he noted, though she wasn't as tall as Altmer.

His lips went into a grin. With _that_ eye on her brooch he was more than familiar with. Memories, it brought back _memories_. Not always pleasant…

"If it's something…on the other side of the law... If you catch my meaning…" His lips curled into a little smile. The inn was full of chatter, unlikely anyone would overhear a word, but she seemed to doubt that.

She shook her head. "No of course. I need you to lead me to one place."

"If you are looking for a safer place to talk," he picked at his foot and nodded at the door sideways. "Better to leave outside then."

She stepped after him and raised her hood back to her forehead. He saw her intense green eyes, yet not as almond shaped as Altmers. Her face wasn't as angled as Mer's too. Yet she must have had elven blood.

"It's nothing against the law," she spoke. "I… needed to take an artifact here, but it was probably stolen."

He trampled snow with his boot. "And what do you want me to do?"

She hesitated for a moment, picking her words. "Guard said it were the bandits who killed him." She stared him in the eyes and he nearly shuddered. She had an odd eye color, even for a mage. Mages always had something in their eyes, he wasn't exactly sure of how to name it, but it must have been a side effect of magic. That _something_ often made people feel uncomfortable. _Locals_, particularly.

"If there is any chance… If they can have it, I need to assure every possibility." She looked at the mountains. "You said you know the surroundings. Do you know where their camp could be?"

He coughed. "Uhm. Yes, I heard… Some settled in a fort." The city watch must have been the only ones who hadn't heard of this. _Bandits. _He wiggled his fingers at the thought. Some training would be useful for him now. Would Skyrim ever experience a lack of _bandits_, anyway?

"Then please lead me there," she said.

Mage grinned. "Of course. It must be important if you decided…" Well, _how to say that_. He just couldn't think of _her_ charging into the fort full of marauders, if she hadn't had a deathwish. Bandits were usually cowards, but when axed orc was charging at him, even _he_ felt uncomfortable, and he wasn't a coward. "It will be dark in an hour. And then we will go."

She nodded slowly, that odd look in her eyes. "If you say so."

The mage flashed a smile. "Now, maybe you could tell me your name?"

I I I

He leaned against the wooden rails, his eyes at the sky. Wasn't now the most suitable time, when you think about it? After days of _hard work_ marauders used to have a little feast, getting terribly drunk, and laughing at their rude jokes that loud, that you could hear neighing even through the stone walls. Bandits, after all, were not the most intelligent folks of Skyrim. A little lightning, he smirked, or some fire, and their bodies already rolled on the ground. He was told lightning looked most impressive, though.

He heard soft footsteps on the snow and looked at the approaching woman. "Let's go?" he asked. Levoren nodded and they trailed walked towards Riften gates.

He broke the silence when they stepped into the forest.

"I just thought," he began, "Shouldn't you tell me more about that artifact?"

"What exactly?" She asked.

"You know, there are many items that emit magic almost in any fort. You probably know that I happen to be a _mage _as well," he cracked a smile. "I can find enchanted things too."

"It is… a disk," she said hesitantly. "A Dwarven piece. I was told it's a golden plate with Dwemer carvings and blue jewels. It shouldn't be big, but very ancient."

Ancient and Dwemer. Marcurio _liked_ when these two words were in a single sentence.

His lips curled into a smile. _If _only_ someone here wasn't an expert on Dwemer culture. _Technology Dwarves used was something inconceivable for these times. It wasn't even magic, pure technology… It always got him fascinated.

"If it is there, I will sense it," he assured. "I am _particularly_ familiar with Dwemer works, let's say."

A weak smile appeared in her lips. "Were you learning in Winterhold?" And there_,_ he hoped to avoid the details.

"I learned there," he nodded slowly. "But now I am on my own." He met her questioning look, but she didn't ask more.

"It's beautiful here," She said thoughtfully.

"You aren't from Skyrim, are you?" He asked.

"Not really." She hesitated. "I mean, actually no. We came from Cirodiil before… the war began."

"And you joined Winterhold?"

"The College …" She thought for a moment. "They invited us."

"In summer it looks more alive." He met her confused look and laughed. "The forest. It's probably the coldest winter there ever was." He noticed that she _was_ shivering and her lips were nearly the color of her cloak.

His eyes narrowed. "You are freezing?"

"D-don't you feel cold at all?" Her breath was turning into clouds of steam, he noticed this only now.

"I drank the frost resistance potion. I feel some chill now, nothing more. Don't you have one?" He asked.

She closed her eyes, still quivering. "The enchantment on my cloak must be fading. It was resisting cold." Her teeth clenched as she spoke.

He took a flake from the bag on his side. "Have some mead. It will warm you up." She hesitated, but then stretched a quivering arm from her cloak's folds and took the bottle.

She opened the bottle and made a sip, frown distorted her face. She made a few more gulps with her eyes shut and started to cough after the last swallow, shiver ran through her body. She gave him back now half-empty flake.

"You drank that like poison." Marcurio stated, putting the bottle safely into his bag. "It was the best Skyrim's mead, by the way."

"My brains must have got frozen if I drank this," she breathed out, blinking. "I am not into alcohol," she explained, seeing his look.

"And _I_ don't save money on good alcohol. That was good alcohol, by the way."

A smirk appeared in her face. "I thought Imperials weren't into mead,"

He cracked a smile. Now she must have really got warmer. "Cirodiilic brandy is hard to get here. So are you warmer now?" Her lips began to gain color and she was shuddering only a little.

"I think I am. Not for long, though."

The Candleligh above them started to dissolve and Levoren raised her hand to renew the spell. Marcurio froze suddenly, and raised his arm meaning for her to stop. He stared into the forest. He was sure he _saw_ something.

"What – "

"Hush!" Marcurio hissed and leaned lover behind a bush, so he could still see _them_. The bush threw a shadow on the ground and he squat down so the shadow hid him.

A weak light accompanied dark figures moving among the trees. They were walking slowly, black-robed silhouettes defined sharply against the snow. They carried a few torches, but the glow they illuminated was so dim that it barely reflected even from the white snow.

Levoren crawled closer to him, her steps were light and the snow barely made any sound, yet something called one dark person's attention. Figure in the front froze. With a slight hand gesture, figure made remaining group to come to a halt. Hooded heads instantly turned towards the forest. They were listening, Marcurio thought, holding his breath. The frontal figure, probably woman, turned her head slowly, until she was looking straight at their hiding place. He felt their eyes scan the forest, he felt like a _prey_. Now that wasn't something very usual for him

Levoren touched his sleeve. He turned at her and she placed her arm on her bag. He looked at her in question and she moved her lips mutedly. _Invisibility_. She looked in his eyes inquiringly, but he slowly shook his head, moving a finger to his lips. He looked at the figures - woman's attention still was directed at their side. It turned seconds to hours and he could_ feel _that scanning gaze around them.

The woman stood for another moment, but then shook her head and made slight hand movement. Immediately the group went on. Marcurio observed them, until they disappeared in the forest completely, and did not move until the lightest shade of light was not seen anymore.

Only when the dark shrouded them again, he raised and helped Levoren to stand up.

"_Damn_," Marcurio cursed, dusting the snow off his robe. "Not the most pleasant meeting."

She looked askance. "Do you know who they are?"

He nodded weakly. "They went into opposite direction," he hesitated. "Let's go. It's not far to the fort anymore."

They went on and he met her asking look. "_Well_, who are foolish enough to practice banned arts?"

She raised an eyebrow. " Necromancers?"

"Good guess."

"But Necromancy isn't banned in Skyrim."

"Yet there are rules, that some break. These ones have formed a… cult, let's say, many years ago. I've come into them once and I was lucky enough to escape. They are not a regular bunch of necromancers. This cult is comparatively small and Winterhold doesn't give it enough attention." He shrugged. "They do not attack mages directly, so they aren't considered a bigger treat that anyone else. They act quietly. Yet."

"But why do you think this group was that cult? Oh!" Some snow slid on her face from the birch branches. Marcurio conjured a weak Candlelight.

"The robes. Their… leader. And have you noticed the person in the middle?"

"I barely saw them at all behind that bush," Levoren confessed.

"She had her head covered with black sack."

"She?"

"The cult kidnaps people for the rituals."

"By rituals you mean …" Her eyes widened. "They reanimate _living_ people?"

"Of course," a smirk appeared in his face. "Not just people, _pure maidens_, as they state it," he grinned.

"And… What would they have done if they had seen _us_?" Levoren asked carefully.

"Well, guess." He gave her a mocking smile. "What necromancers do? Hm? But these precisely – from what I've seen them do myself– they would probably put us under a spell and take alive with them for, hm, further use, or kill and reanimate instantly to use as slaves, they of course have to support their image too…" He toyed with a flame spell in his hands. "_Or_ they could take our hearts for…further use." He ignored her disapproving look and rolled his eyes. "Almost as far as their imagination goes!" He started to laugh. "But I forgot to mention necrophilia. That is actually not as common among necromancers as everyone are used to think… At least one…"

She glared at the mage. "You answered my question more that clearly, Marcurio."

"Doubt until you see it." He looked at the sky. "Here we are."

The fort stood dark and gloomy against the whiteness around, not a hint of shine in its windows. He focused his eyes on any movement on the towers.

"I see no scouts," Levoren whispered eyeing the fort.

"Yes," Marcurio agreed. "I don't see any neither."

"Is that a good sign?"

Mage hesitated. "Depends. Now let's keep quiet and move on." They stepped towards the main gate. It lacked doors and was blocked with wooden barricades. Mages entered the arc and Marcurio looked around the inner yard. He spotted a few entrances beside the main gate. He'd been in forts for enough times to figure their design.

"We'll enter through side door." He approached the smaller door and pulled, yet it did not open.

"Locked?" Levoren inquired.

Marcurio searched in his bag. "Probably." He raised a lockpick in his hand, grinning. "Not for long." He stuck a lockpick into the lock and moved it for a few moments, when the lock crackled.

"Where did you learn that?" She asked suspiciously.

"Only to extend my knowledge," he grinned and pushed the door open. "Let's go inside, then," he murmured, walking into the fort. She stepped after, closing the door.

The room was dark, yet weak light came from the corridor. Marcurio sneaked closer to the corridor and looked into the hall on the opposite side. A few torched glowed on the wall, illuminating little light. He heard no sounds so usual for bandits and no footsteps. Weak gleam filled the room, Levoren's hand glowed as she held it raised, but then it faded.

"No one's there too," he said, nodding to go on and they walked into the corridor. Rooms filled with old wood and trinkets, probably left by temporary settlers of the fort, nothing more yet. They came upon the stairs leading down, torches burned on the way there. _If_ there were torches then someone must have lit them.

"Let's go down," Marcurio murmured, nodding at the staircase.

"Why don't we first search here?" She looked at the corridor that led further.

"They aren't smart, but even they wouldn't keep valuables too close to the entrance. And I sensed nothing." Her look was still doubtful.

"Look, bandits are easily predictable, they wouldn't strew things through all the fort. They usually gathered all their loot in the _treasure room_, as they call it."

"If you say so."

They sneaked down the stairs. The room down was lighted better, leaving no shadows in. Usually marauders left scouts here, yet there was no one.

"I sense something," Levoren murmured. Marcurio nodded, he'd felt enchantment too, yet it seemed weak. He saw an amulet on the table. "Only a pendant." He glanced sideways – he thought he heard steps, yet it was only fire that cracked. His fingers pulsated with magic, so sudden flow of energy that he almost couldn't control it. Mage breathed deeply and exhaled.

They slipped forward, and Levoren searched the room.

"There a few chests," she pointed and sighted. "I'd better check everything…" she added. "There is a trace of enchantments."

He nodded. "I feel it too, but it's weak."

She leaned to a chest and raised a lid; he glanced inside – a few amulets and goblets. Just as he thought.

"I've never seen the artifact," she sighed. "Tolfdir could have drawn it at last..." She moved to another chest, but then raised her eyes at him.

"Marcurio…"

"Hm?"

"If there is someone, I will paralyze them," she said, he felt her intent look. "Don't attack," she added.

His eyes glinted. "And what if they will?"

"I told you, I know paralyze spell." She stood dusting her cloak.

He rolled his eyes and they went along the corridor. In the end it separated into a room and the bigger hall. "Check in this chamber," Marcurio nodded at the room. "I'll search in the hall."

Levoren nodded. "Okay, but don't go further without me." She walked into the room and conjured a glowing light in her hand.

Marcurio entered the hall, which finally reminded occupied quarters. Empty bottles of ale lay on the ground, there were more on the table, along with wooden plates and bowls and barrels around the room. Further he noticed stacked boxes and chests, a _lot_ of them. This was a _good_ sign. He felt considerable amounts of magic coming from there. Marcurio crept closer. A _great_ amount of amulets would be needed to make that trace. He looked into the first box, to find it full of silver goblets with amethysts, golden plates and other _quite_ _luxurious _dishes. _Dishes_, by divines, they must have cost more than he earned in a year. A chest nearby was full of jewelry, but not enchanted, only ridiculously expensive. He closed his eyes and slid a few diamond pendants into his bag. It wasn't _stealing_, they were already stolen. Marcurio reached for another chest, when a sound of shattering glass wafted from behind.

"_Trespasser_!" Bosmer man yelled, grabbing for his dagger. Marcurio jumped back, teal lightning swirling in his hands. Elf charged forward shouting about mage's _deathwish for showing up he- _Ray of lightning fling elf down, he screamed of pain collapsing to the ground. Marcurio gave him another charge instantly, he knew – others will be here soon. He heard bustle and shouts behind the wall accompanied by the sound of drawn weapons. Another bandit tumbled into the room, he drawn his bow while shouting about the mage's soon death. Marcurio called fire and gave the man burst of fire and shock. The force smashed archer into the wall, his body fell lifeless while continuing to burn. More marauders charged towards him, a Nord raised his hammer at the mage, but he took advantage of his open stance and launched a fireball into the man's face, making him cover it by reflex and mage succussed him with a bolt. A smell of burning flesh started to fill the room. A woman jumped on him with a dagger on her hand, he cast a ward and the weapon hurtled against it. He launched lightning and the woman's body shook, teal sparks vaulting under her skin and her body began steaming.

"_Aah_!" Another Nord with a sword attacked, Marcurio sprang back only the last moment, yet the sword razed his arm. Mage turned to the Nord, both fire and lightning ran through the man's body, he staggered before tumbling down heavily.

"You will regret stepping here!" A woman yelled, her eyes burning with hate. She charged at him armed with an axe, she slashed with all her might, but weapon hit the ward. _"Die, mage!"_ Her face distorted when the lightning knocked her to the wall like a rag doll and she slumped. The last jolt and…

"_Stop, Marcurio!"_

He interrupted his bolt immediately, recoiling at Levoren, her scream echoed in the room. Marcurio stared.

Her eyes were round in terror. "_Stop that_ _killing_!"

He dropped his hands, still filled by magic; blue sparks circled around his fingers.

She dashed to him. "What are you _doing_!"

"They are bandits, Levoren!" Marcurio swung at her, looking into her eyes, so full of terror and panic. "_They_ do people harm!"

"You don't know what people they are!" Levoren uttered a cry.

"They're _bandits_, listen, girl!" Spells in his hands flashed dangerously; Levoren stretched her hands to smite the mage…

Laying and broken marauder raised a hand at the woman, while the mages were quarreling and conjured a fireball off her last powers.

…when she was grabbed by the hand and nearly hurled to the side, while Marcurio shaded them with a ward and launched a bolt instantly. The bandit lay dead.

Marcurio stared at her, sparks of fury flashing in his eyes and did not release her arm. "Do you see how she repaid you!" He directed his other hand at the steaming bandit. "You'd be lying here, _well_ such a weak spell wouldn't kill you, but half of your hair might have been _gone_ by now!" Her eyes were wide and staring into his.

"Please release me," she spoke silently, with her eyes closed. She breather deeply and exhaled, opening her eyes.

"They are lost people, Levoren," Marcurio released her arm. "They have nothing to lose… You wanted to save her, but she was one of them. She tried to _repay_ you the way she learned."

Levoren looked at the steaming figures on the floor.

"That is – take as many enemies with yourself, as you _can_," finished Marcurio calmly. She wasn't used to this apparently, was she? "I'm sorry for a mess… But the magic is coming from these chests here."

"I sense it," she nodded and turned away from the cadavers. "You _had_ to burn the bodies, hadn't you," she spoke sullen and started browsing in the box.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry – it's complicated to concentrate when someone swings a hammer at you."

She looked at his arm. "You are injured."

He noticed that crimson stain on his sleeve was growing. "Only a scratch." Mage placed a hand over his wound and cast healing. The spell ran through the wound, he felt the tissue join and the wound closed. They ruined his robe, though, he sighed. But that was justifiable, wasn't it?

"Help me search," she mumbled without even looking at him. He looked in another box, this one was filled with sculptures of divines, silver ingots and more dishes. This all would be probably enough to buy a decent house, he noted opening another chest.

Levoren sighed and rubbed her head. "We'll have to bury them." Marcurio nearly burst into uncontrollable laughter and conjured an ice spell in his hand.

I I I

They searched everywhere. And the fort was bigger that she thought. She was afraid that if she will kneel again she will never rise again.

"It isn't here," Marcurio stated for the tenth time. "_And_ we already searched in this room."

She rubbed her face, trying to remain conscious. She _was_ tired. She hadn't been tired like this in her life and her head ached…. And the bodies… She would have to dig a grave for herself along.

"Levoren, we checked in every place with the slightest trace of magic," Marcurio sighted. "It's impossible to conceal the artifact completely, it would emit _something_…"

She remained silent.

"I even found a shard of a soulgem, by divines, and what is that compared to the artifact…"

She looked at him with her lips pursed and nodded weakly. "It's not here," she rose from her knees and tried to prevent a yawn, yet unsuccessfully. Tolfdir will be disappointed. She will have to contact him… _in the morning_. She couldn't do anything now. Oh, she wanted to go to bed as nothing else…

"You know," Marcurio began." When you think about the coincidence…"

"What coincidence?"

"I wonder where our friends necromancers were these few days ago."

She looked at him for a moment. "What do you mean…_them_?"

Marcurio shrugged.

She gave out a sight. A long letter awaited to be written, _very long… _But in the morning, only in the morning.


	4. 3: Curse of the Nature

**A/N: Thank you for reviews, it's nice to know that somebody is reading. ^^ And thanks for the note about spelling, I'll try to improve! Even if I try not to leave such mistakes (English is my secondary language :/) I'm sorry if that happens. I usually recheck later, and correct mistakes that I find.**

**(As deletes star marks I used to put as separation marks in the story, now I put three 'I I I' letters.) **

**Hope you enjoy this chapter! (:**

**Chapter 3: Curse Of The Nature**

Her eyes were still sealed, but she woke up with that odd feeling pressing her head from inside. Her head _ached_. She cracked her eyes open and stared at the wooden ceiling, then rose at her elbows. She blinked and the thought stroke her.

_The letter_!

She jumped from the bed only to bend from a sudden pain in her legs. She breathed in deeply and cast a healing spell in both her hands, to feel it running pleasantly through her body. The pain dissolved slightly, but she could still feel that odd pulsating in her head and she frowned, rubbing it.

"That's why I _don't_ drink…" She reminded herself and looked around the room. She saw her cloak hanging on a chair's back while her bag was lying on the table near the window.

She looked down at her clothes and realized that she didn't take them off before going to sleep. Yet their fabric was thick, and they didn't appear as battered as they _should_ have. She reached for her bag and took out a small comb, then ran it through her hair several times. She was a _mage_, after all.

She put comb back in her bag and hung it on her shoulder, then wrapped the blue cloak around herself and hasted to the door. The key stuck in the keyhole, she turned it one time and the door opened. Levoren hastily stepped downstairs and put the key on the counter table. "I am sorry, what time is it?" She asked Argonian man, who stood behind the counter.

He took the key and shrugged. "Should be around midday."

She grabbed the paper and ink from her bag and threw them on the table, while with one hand continued searching for the quill. Damn, where was that feather!

Levoren managed to find it on the very bottom, covered in remains of dried herbs and shook them off. Then she started writing….

_Dear Tolfdir... _

She hesitated, tapping the quill at the tabletop several times. What should she begin with? Should she mention… _the_ _fort_?

She pressed the quill on the paper.

She'd better just go to the point.

Quill moved on the paper hastily; she wasn't sure if that was the most suitable tone she was writing in, _but_ there wasn't much time to think about it. Courier must come today, if he hasn't already… She folded the letter and placed it in the envelope, then took a candle from the table, carefully dropping a few dribs of wax to seal it. She reached for a little stamp with an eye on it, and pressed it in the wax. Now she had to get to the stables and _fast_.

She stepped on a bridge, when she heard someone's familiar voice.

"Hey! Levoren!"

She looked back to see Marcurio waving to her. "Good morning," he smirked, approaching. "_So_, you woke up!"

"I need to send the letter!" She waved envelope in front of her and they walked to the city gates.

"And I went to knock your door again," he said. "You did not answer for the first time. And second too." He grinned. "I wish I could sleep like that!" She gave him the look and he smirked. "_But_ I found out something about the cult."

They approached the gates and she pushed heavy wooden door. "And what is it?"

"Two women disappeared here."

"When?"

"_Two_ days ago." He grinned. "_Though _they are dropping their standards, it seems," he added, shrugging.

She curved an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"They took the ones that will be missed only by certain… _clients_, let's say. They chose maidens not so _pure_," he shrugged, grinning and she rolled her eyes.

They saw people congregated besides the stables and Levoren sighed in _relief_.

"Lucky you," Marcurio said. "Courier usually comes earlier."

"At least some good news," she said and they joined the waiting.

Crowd was getting impatient; people started glancing at the road every moment and murmured, sounding more and more annoyed.

"Maybe a troll got 'im," a man finally said.

"Or bandits," someone else added.

"I need to send an invitation to my cousin! For my wedding!" A woman exclaimed and everyone's faces turned into a stony frown.

Yet soon they heard hooves, hitting the hard layer of the snow and saw galloping horse with a man in the saddle.

"At last," a man mumbled and everyone stood arms-crossed with their letters in them.

"Just in time," Marcurio smiled at Levoren and they stood into the row.

I I I

The letter was in couriers' hands and on its way to Winterhold. Even if she had to pay _some_ additional money for fast delivery, she was promised that the letter will be there soon. And she _hoped_ she could trust that.

"Congratulations, you've made it," Marcurio smirked, clapping his hands.

"At least something went without complications," she answered and closed her eyes, placing her hands on her face. It seemed that they glowed weakly, but only for a moment and then she breathed in deeply and exhaled, raising her lids open.

He shifted from one foot to another. "So, what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Um…" She rubbed her head thoughtfully. "Well… For now I will have to stay here and wait for the answer from Tolfdir. But… if I lose a trace of them…" She went in a thoughtful frown.

Marcurio slowly trampled snow with his boot. "It will be some time until your letter reaches Winterhold. But we can do something now, as you wait."

"What is it?"

"Well, we can try find out where _they_ are going, of course."

She nodded slowly. "You mean... Should we follow them?" She narrowed her eyes at him in question.

"They must have passed a village if they went straight that way. _And_ if they passed by it, someone might have seen." He turned his eyes at the mountains in the horizon. "Wouldn't hurt to check, would it."

"Okay," she said. "But only…" She rubbed her head again. "I will have something warm and _wake up_ for now." She began walking back to the city gates.

He grinned and trailed after her. "_And_ don't forget to buy a potion."

I I I

"How could the weather have changed so much in just one night?" She asked, glancing at the snow-capped forest that they went by. "I would say it's even warmnow." Her cloak hung behind her shoulders as a cape now, and he noticed that she wore pants shade of the dark oak, accompanied with a lighter top with thick black sleeves. Her booths reached to the middle of the calf. He noted that hers looked like travel clothes more, not like something mages used to wear.

"Well, warm comparing to yesterday." she said.

"Yes, quite strange."

She hesitated for a moment, but then spoke. "What makes you think necromancers visited the village? They could have passed through the forest, couldn't they?"

"Thinking that they kidnapped two people here, they still needed one more," he said. Then he added, seeing her eyebrows go up in question. "I've seen their ritual once, you know. And also that's written in the books, cults always use one or three or six and so on."

She stared at him, surprise in her eyes. "You've _seen_ the ritual yourself?"

Marcurio shrugged "Well yes… Haven't I mentioned that? No?" He grinned at the odd look she gave him and added. "That was unplanned encounter, if you think anything."

Levorens' brows knotted into a little frown. "Then can you share with me _how_ did you run into them?"

"I was always a curious person." His lips curled into a little smile. "I just… exactly, _ran_ into them. Okay, maybe _sneaked_ into them, but it was unexpected encounter. These ruins… didn't look like an ordinary necromancer's lair, as to say."

"And how an _ordinary_ necromancer's lair looks like, then?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Well, you know… There weren't bodies anywhere, not even a single skull or a puddle of blood. Nothing that said _necromancers_," he whispered the last word. "But when I got deeper, I felt something, some, how to say…" He hesitated, picking the right words. "A feeling, perhaps. Something lingered there, heavily and sultry."

Colder whiff of wind blew at them and Levoren placed her hands beneath her cloak. "And curiosity pushed you further?" She asked. "I've heard that at least three students of the College disappear in the ruins every year."

Marcurio smirked. "You don't know how many _disappear_ overall, then. Where did I stop? Yes, then I walked further until I heard voices, but they were silent, as if coming from behind the wall. Then I noticed candlelight gleaming somewhere forward and came closer. I saw a big hall and them in there. That hall was full of figures of people."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you still went there alone?"

"Have I mentioned that I was the best in Destruction class?" A trace of smugness turned up in his face. "I didn't fear anything, but I was always careful."

"But apparently not careful enough that time?"

Marcurio gave a weak laugh. "If I wasn't, I probably wouldn't be here now, having your enjoyable company."

She rolled her eyes and he continued. "A lot candles illuminated the hall, but still the light was dim. I've noticed many places where I could hide and watch it closer. When they were all turned back from me, I sneaked behind the crypt and watched ceremony from there. I noticed three people lying on the crypts, probably bound to them. Two women and a man. Well, I should say that I heard them first. Necromancers were going to perform a ritual of sacrifices to their god, but I am not sure who do they worship. Probably some Daedra. Everyone were in black, but one woman wore brightly purple robe and without a hood. I found that she is their leader, sort of."

"You think you saw her yesterday?"

"Well, I couldn't see her face too well, but she looked like human, judging from her shape. The woman I saw in the ruins back then was Breton." He thought for a moment, recalling what he'd seen back then. He wouldn't say it wasn't an interesting experience. He always had interest in the _unusual_. "She stood before the stone altar, preaching on the usual topics, you know? How the dark lord will arise in the world of mortals, blood of the innocent will be spilled in his honor and the god will bath in crimson…" He snorted. "Devotion to dark arts, they say. I call it foolishness."

"What happened to the people?" She asked. "Did you try to free them?"

Corners of his lips went up and he burst into laughter. "Really, what else would bother you?"

She looked at him disapprovingly. "So then, what happened that they saw you?"

Little flames appeared in his hands, and went off with a flash. "Well, let's just say some _fire_ happened."

I I I

They saw dull smoke twirling from the chimneys into the gray sky and soon villages' wooden cottages appeared surrounded by the forest. Coming closer, they heard a man shouting. "I tell you, it's something with _her_!"

Approaching, mages saw a group of people congregated aside stone well between the houses.

"Perhaps Meara has been cursed," an old Nord woman said.

"She stays at home and comes out only early in the morning." An Orc man spoke in his harsh voice.

"Mardik saw her yesterday," another woman said. "He said she has long green _things_ growing from her fingers, they looked like thin branches, he said."

"It's her fault, all of this!" Nord spat out. "I've heard enough! Even if I had doubts, now I am certain!"

"She was always a good woman," old woman said. "She helped me with picking herbs and with washing."

"Oh, divines, she received the curse of the nature itself!" Younger woman exclaimed, worry in her eyes. "I hope she won't call this upon our village, our children…"

"She already has, don't you see?" Nord shouted in anger. "Filnjar's daughter was killed by the beast already and who else, if not _her_, called this upon us!" He pointed his hand towards the forest. "Wolves never approached our village before, never before!"

"It is a cold winter," wrinkled old man spoke. "Wolves can't find food in the woods, so they came to seek here."

Nord clasped his fist. "And do you know for sure? I tell you, it's black magic and this can't be a simple coincidence." He looked at another Nord, shrouded in a fur coat. "Ymir, tell them!"

Man shrugged. "I… shot one wolf last night…"

"And when has the girl disappeared?" Nord glared at the old man and nodded for his friend to continue. "Tell everything, Ymir."

Man hesitated shifting from one foot to another. "I am no hunter… But when I seen the beast, I grabbed a bow from my house and ran out. I shot, and then it fell, just a few leaps away. But I found my arrow in the snow, it wasn't blooded. I didn't hit 'im with arrow."

"Wolf's fur was frozen, he lay like a stone," Nord said. "I saw myself. When does a body get cold so fast? I tell you, it's witchcraft. She will call curses upon us, you'll see!"

"But the girl's body wasn't found yet," an Orc noted. "Have you seen any blood anywhere? Maybe she just went to the city."

"Well isn't that interesting," Marcurio murmured silently. Levoren looked at him in question, but then turned at the people again.

The Nord sniffed. "Alone? In the middle of the night? Filnjar is grieving his girl already, do you want more deaths? More curses?" Nords eyes shined in anger.

"What do you want us to do, Jorhin?" Black-haired woman asked.

"Send her out of here!" Another woman yelled. "We can't risk our children and our entire village!"

Nord man shook his head slowly. "Send her out? No no," he grinned. "What then? End for us then. She has to be sent _far_ away. Very far..."

An old man raised his hands. "But, Jorhin, you don't know for sure! How could you do this? The divines would never forgive you!"

"Forgive _me_ for sending a witch away!" Nord spat out. "Just wait," he frowned and shook his head. "Wait and you'll see what this will bring to you…" Nord turned his head and noticed the mages. "Just who are _you_ two?" He narrowed his eyes at them.

Levoren opened her mouth. "We are –"

Marcurio made a step forward. "We are traveling priests," he smiled charmingly, making his most frank expression.

"Priests?" Nord eyed them suspiciously, others glanced curiously. "Really? You are here about the witch?"

"We can help," Levoren said, stepping to the mage's side. "Where does she live?"

"Priests, eh…" Old Orc spoke. "She lives in a small house near the fa'm, the way down. She used to wo'k there."

"Can you tell us more about this… curse?" Levoren asked.

"She is turnin' into a tree." He said crossing his hands on his chest. "I seen 'er too. 'Er hands turned into branches, and 'er skin is turnin' greenish."

"I hope it's not contagious at least…" Woman with black-hair frowned. "I wouldn't want to catch that."

"Try what you want, but I tell you," Nord man waved his hands, walking away, "it will only make things worse. Try, priests. I hope we won't have to clean your bloody bodies afterwards."

They watched the man until he was off sight, then an elder woman looked at them with her sad eyes."Do what you can, please. She was a good person, I will never believe it's her fault. She… someone did this to her. She has nothing to do with this, I am sure."

"We will try," Levoren nodded and looked at Marcurio. "We'll do what we can."

"But she doesn't open the door to anyone," black-haired woman added. "Not even to her sister when she came to her. Poor woman is so worried about her..."

Marcurio placed his hand on Levoren's shoulder and when she looked at him, nodded sideways. They walked behind a house and he spoke. "It's not a coincidence, I'd say. They passed here. I think they went into the mountains."

Levoren stared at him with that look of hers. "We have to help that woman." He felt her intense eyes on him and nearly shuddered. "You think it was their work?" she asked. "The wolf?"

Marcurio nodded. "I think so. They must have sent it as a distraction and took the girl, so people would blame simply the wolves. About that woman…" He shrugged. " Well, I've never heard anything like it."

"We have to do something to help her," Levoren said. "They think she sent the wolves!"

Marcurio grinned. "_How_ could I have forgotten that you wanted to give mercy even to a bandit."

"It's not her fault!" He saw tiny green flames flash in her eyes. "You heard what that Nord wants to do to her!"

He shifted from one foot to another. "It's not ours fault either. I thought you had more important issues right now?"

"They are planning to kill her! You heard what they said!"

Marcurio pointed his eyes at the sky. "And _you_, of course, have to drag yourself into everything." But then, he thought, _didn't_ he?

"It won't take long," a smile appeared in her face. "I _think_ I know what she has." Levoren uncovered a bag from behind her cloak. She started searching for something in it.

Marcurio raised his eyebrow. "Oh really? I never heard of such … _symptoms _before."

"But I have." She smiled and picked out a small book with a brown cover.

Mage glanced at the book. "What's that?"

"My journal," she said, flipping the book open and flicked over the pages with her fingers. "I write down recipes for potions here." She pointed her finger at one page and raised her eyes at him.

He arched his eyebrow. "And how do you happen to have a recipe for something like _that_?"

"Alchemy is one of the subjects I study," she explained. "And sometimes very curious… _conditions_ occur. I learned about some rare diseases in Cirodiil and I recall a very similar case."

Marcurio went into laugh. "_Right_, and it has _nothing_ to do with witchcraft."

She stared at him. "I learn to heal people."

"You don't have to be very insightful to notice that." He grinned. "That was irony."

"I will try to make a cure for her," Levoren said, reading the list.

Marcurio sighted. "Well, _you_ paid me. You lead, I'll follow."

They walked down the street where Orc pointed, leaving steps on the soft snow, that seemed to be turning softer every hour and now they left wet steps.

"But traveling priests?" Levoren frowned. "Why did you lie?"

Marcurio sniffed. "You know, mages aren't most likable personas in Skyrim. Of course, you don't know that, do you? It's safer to introduce yourself as a priest in such… places, at least at first."

"Is it because of what happened in Winterhold?" she asked.

"So you know about the Great Collapse?"

"I… heard something, yes." She nodded slowly. "When I first came it was strange to see the whole city in such condition, as if something horrible happened just yesterday."

"Winterhold was the capital of Skyrim once," Marcurio said thoughtfully. "But it's hard to believe now, isn't it? Yet Nords were always distrustful of magic." He shrugged. "It was so even before the Great Collapse, it only worsened things. Nords just don't have the talent for magic. Not as…"

"_Imperials_." She rolled her eyes. "They must have had a reason for distrust."

"They fear it, because they can't learn to tame it and so, they think of it as incomprehensible threat."

Corner of the cottage showed in the end of the street. It was from dark wood, and it whole looked dark. Mages stopped and looked at the house.

"This must be where she lives?" Levoren eyed the cottage.

"There's a farm on the other side of the stream." Marcurio nodded towards the building. "So this must be… But the house looks empty."

All windows were covered by a heavy dark fabric. "Or what they say is true," he grinned. "I would like to see that…"

She gave him disapproving look and came closer to the door. She knocked three times and glanced in the window, looking for any movement of the curtains.

But they heard nothing inside.

Levoren knocked again and leaned closer to the door to listen.

"You heard what they said. She doesn't open a door even to her own sister, why do you think she will to you?"

Levoren gave the door two more knocks. "I came to help you," she said softly. "Please, I can try to cure you."

"Leave me alone!" Creaking woman's voice came from behind the door. "I haven't done anything!"

"We can help you," Levoren repeated. "Please trust me, I think I know what you have! It's curable!"

Silence stood behind the door for a while.

"Just _go_ away," the woman said mournfully and then they heard nothing.

"She won't open it," Marcurio said.

Levoren sighed and nodded. "She probably won't," she said sorely and they turned around.

The door cracked quietly and a little gap appeared.

Levoren rushed to the door. "Can we enter? I promise I will help you."

"Go in, my dear" woman sighted. "I… don't know what happened with me..."

Levoren entered the cottage and glanced at the woman's figure. She now stood back to her, but something strange reached to her knees. Marcurio came in and closed the door behind quietly. Woman turned to them slowly and they saw her hands. Marcurio raised his eyebrows and Levoren nodded slowly. Her skin looked oddly grayish in faint room's light, even _green_. Her eyes were completely black, two dark buttons and her _hands_…

He narrowed his eyes and peered at the claws, growing on her nails, or maybe her own fingers were turning into these long branch-like formations. They looked more like branches, just like the villagers said.

Woman shook her head slowly and tears began forming in her eyes. "I did nothing to get this, I don't know _why_…" She sobbed once, and tears started running down her face. She raised her arms weakly and her fingers moved, but then her arms dropped to her sides and she shook her head, sobbing.

Levoren approached woman and placed her hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry," she said calmly. "I know that it is curable."

Woman sobbed, sitting on the bed. "It started so slowly... My nails turned brown first, and then they grew and grew…" She shook her head, but continued. "My skin started to change color… Marta asked if I was ill, but I felt well, only a little dizzy, that was all… But they kept growing and growing, I tried to cut them first, and cut them again… But they grew back faster and faster, I tried to hide them under clothes. I wore long sleeves and…" She raised her eyes at Levoren with sorrow in them. "I couldn't cut them anymore, nothing could cut them. They grew so long and hard." She stared at her hands. "And my eyes went black. I said that I got ill. I stayed at home and went out only when everyone was asleep. But they saw me. I heard them talk about me. That I am _cursed_." She sobbed. "But I_ am_, am I not?" She looked at the healer in sorrow, but her black eyes gleamed in hope.

Levoren shook her head. "No, no it's only an illness. It must be from Spriggan pollen," she smiled slightly. "I know a cure."

"Are you _sure_?" Marcurio murmured, making a step closer.

She looked at him, then at the woman. "Very rarely, but it happens," she said. "The pollen grows in another organism, slowly taking over it. Have you been in the forest?" She asked the woman. "In spring, when everything was blooming?"

"I have, but… I have never even seen Spriggan myself…"

"You didn't necessarily have to," Levoren explained. "The pollen is so light, it can be easily picked by the wind. If you breathe in large amounts of it, sometimes it starts growing…" She felt Marcurios' doubtful look and added. "As I said, in rare cases, very rare. Pollen usually lives for a few days only." She looked at the woman. "Nobody knows yet why this happens."

"But… can you really cure me?" Woman asked weakly. "If it is inside of me, growing…" Her body shuddered.

"I only need to make a potion," Levoren smiled. "I know the recipe. You will be cured, I promise," she turned to the door; Marcurio glanced at the woman again and went after her.

"Divines bless you…" Woman said and stood to close the door after them.

"Don't worry," Levoren said and they left the cottage, the door hastily closing after them.

Marcurio turned to her with his lids half-closed. "I've never seen anything like it. _Did_ you ever think it would ever be useful?" he asked. "That recipe."

She turned the page with the recipe open. "I didn't think it would get useful so soon. The potion isn't hard to make, I think I have everything with me, except snowberries. I read that they must grow in this region."

Marcurio smirked. "Yeah, tell this to them."

"I've seen some bushed on my way here," she said. "Aren't there snowberries here?"

He shrugged. "I haven't gone harvesting for quite some time."

She pointed towards the woods. "Let's look around here. We need some leaves," she explained. "And a few berries would be great."

"_You_ need," Marcurio looked at her. "I'd say we go back and wait for your letter now."

She looked at him with that _look_. "The faster we find it, the faster I will make that potion. You know how the leaves look like?"

"Of _course_ I know, who do you think I am?"

They walked into the forest, but no snowberry bushes were to be seen. They saw a frozen pond and she turned to him. "Okay, then go look in the forest around here, and I'll check near that pond," she nodded towards it. "It will be faster if we search separately. Then let's return here."

Marcurio nodded weakly. "Don't go too far." He stepped into the forest while she approached the ice-covered pond. There was a white bush and she brushed some snow off it to find only bare branches underneath. Not a trace of ruby berries or even a _single_ leaf. And, there, she learned that winter was thriving time for snowberries...

She looked around and spotted another bush near the pond. She came closer, when something caught her attention. She stood still for a moment and listened.

That sound…

Where was it coming from?

She looked around, listening carefully. She came closer to the pond and looked behind the rock – there she saw brightly green leaves. They seemed to be emitting their own light.

She leaned closer.

How could a plant grow at winter?

She landed on the ice with her knees and tried to reach the glowing plant, when suddenly a voice greeted her from behind.

"Well, _what_ do we have here?"

A firm grip landed on her shoulders before she even realized it.


End file.
